


The Ugly Sweater

by moonbeambucky



Category: Lance Tucker - Fandom, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeambucky/pseuds/moonbeambucky
Summary: Lance is reluctant to attend an ugly sweater party





	The Ugly Sweater

**Author's Note:**

> Written on tumblr for interestedbystanderwrites Holiday Prompt Challenge. My prompt was Ugly Sweater Party

Pellets of ice crackled against the glass of the windows, a small pile of snow settled there, trapped in between the screen and the frosted window pane. You wanted to touch the crystalline powder, feeling it melt against the warmth of your hands. Lifting the window you felt the bitter cold course through your veins, as Old Man Winter furiously roared at you for disturbing his creation.

At the moment his winter wonderland was more like a chaotic mess of howling winds whipping snow all over the place but once the blizzard passed, you would be able to appreciate the beauty left in its wake. The ground was shimmering as blankets of unblemished snow covered the ground. Trees hung heavy as their bare limbs wore their seasonal apparel with pride, each branch adorned in soft, sparkling snow.

It was a beautiful sight, one that would not last for long, not when people would leave their homes with shovels in hands to clear the walkways, ruining the pristine landscape with clumpy piles of snow, not when the plows would be unleashed, creating mountains of blackened ice along the streets as they cleared the roads for vehicles.

The only good thing this would bring is the return of your boyfriend Lance. He was travelling for work, on his way back from a competition with the gymnasts he coaches. They were delayed thanks to the blizzard but by tomorrow he should be back in your arms where you can cuddle together by the warmth of the fire.

For now, you were happy to be stuck indoors, thankful for the day off from work so you could finish up the sweaters you and Lance would be wearing this weekend to the Ugly Sweater Party you were invited to. You missed this party last year after Lance planned an impromptu trip to Hawaii.

As much you wanted to celebrate Christmas in a more traditional manner, you couldn’t deny how relaxing it was to lay against the sand, waving your arms and legs to make sand angels while watching the Christmas  _palm_ trees light up. Although you miss your tropical paradise, you are looking forward to finally going to this party. It’s your first ugly sweater party and you were so excited to see everyone’s tacky outfits.

The television provided background noise as you got to work on your ugly masterpieces, why “Frozen” is considered a holiday movie is beyond you, but the peppy songs kept you going through every scratch of garland against your skin and every burn from the hot glue gun as you pulled off cobwebs of string left behind. In the end it was worth it, even if your back was aching to be massaged after leaning over all day; Lance would be more than happy to accommodate you.

The sun had settled long ago even though the evening had just begun. You raised the thermostat, throwing on one of Lance’s hoodies, enveloped in the warmth of his scent that you missed so much. Now as you looked out onto those dark roads, covered in chunks of salt and dusted with sand, you were thankful they were cleared, allowing Lance a path to come home to you again.

Your outfits for the party hung safely on your side of the closet, mostly forgotten about since Lance had returned. You rushed home from work, jumping into his arms, spending the better part of the day in bed together. The rest of the week flew by as you finalized your shopping, wrapping what you could and saved writing out cards for the last minute, since somehow that was always the hardest part.

On Saturday’s Lance would leave early, preferring to get to the gymnastics center early and work out before the girls came in. He tried to shimmy off the bed quietly so he didn’t disturb you, gently placing your arm on the mattress across the spot his body formerly occupied.

He dressed in silence, his track pants swishing as he made his way back to the bed to place a kiss to the top of your head. He didn’t expect you to wake up but you did, sucking in a breath with a half sleepy, content smile on your face.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmured softly. “Go back to sleep, it’s early, love.”

You nodded softly, “Don’t forget the party tonight,” you reminded.

“I won’t.” Lance leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, smiling as he saw your eyes had shut again as he pulled away.

By the time Lance came home he went straight into the shower, desperate for the warm stream to loosen his stiff muscles. The heater had been malfunctioning all day and Lance had to routinely do extra drills with the students to keep their bodies warm and prevent injury. His own body stood still for far too long, letting the cold sink into his bones and now all he wanted to do was stay inside this shower until his fingers pruned and spend the rest of the evening cuddled up with you. He sighed heavily as he remembers he can’t.

Tonight was that Christmas party he promised he would go to. Your friends were nice but they always went overboard with their parties. Any excuse to throw a party and they would. Every birthday was themed for some decade they wanted to pretend to be in, their 4th of July parties were an explosion of red, white and blue, and Lance was even reluctantly dragged to their donut party for National Donut Day.  _Who celebrates that with a full blown party?_

Lance really wished he didn’t have to go but he promised, so he shut off the water and draped a towel around himself, spending just a little more time in the humid bathroom. He swiped his hand across the fogged up mirror, watching as he spread the dollop of moisturizer over his face. He brushed through his wet locks, wanting them to air dry a little longer before he styled it with gel.

Leaving the bathroom, he saw you still weren’t home yet. You had texted earlier saying you were dragged to the mall by your cousin, a dangerous task for the weekend before Christmas. You told him to get ready without you as you would probably return later than expected.

Rushing home, you couldn’t wait to see Lance. The sweater you made him was a definite contender for one of the ugliest sweaters. Originally, it was a plain, dark green sweater but like a mad scientist, you pieced together different parts to create your monster.

Now, it was covered in realistic pine garland that would make him smell like an authentic tree. Going across the sweater was thick red tinsel garland and a string of lights with the battery pack sewed into the hem. Filling in the spaces were gold ornaments, candy canes, mini poinsettias and red velvet bows. At the end of one sleeve was a large silver star so if Lance lifted both of his arms up into a point he would become a Christmas tree.

As soon as you were home you saw the bathroom door was shut. Shouting through it you let Lance know you were back and that you’d need a few minutes to get ready. You were already wearing black leggings and boots, all you needed to do was thrown on the ugly sweater dress you butchered.

Since Lance was a Christmas tree you were going as the fireplace and mantle. Across the sleeves of your red dress was more pine garland, with lights and pinecones weaving in and out. If you spread your arms out there were a few stockings dangling below. Across your chest was a banner that said Merry Christmas and below your waist you patterned maroon felt to look like bricks. The actual fireplace was made of black felt and in the center was a clear plastic container that would hold your iPad, set to play a video of an actual burning Yule log.

You were bursting with excitement to change into your outfit until you got into your bedroom and saw both your dress  _and_ Lance’s sweater still hanging by the closet where you left it this afternoon.

“Lance?” you called out for him, hearing the door open.

“You ready, babe?” he asked.

“Uhh, no and neither are you.”

Lance walked into the bedroom looking handsome as ever. A thin burgundy sweater was pulled over a navy collared shirt, his long legs wore those black pants you loved so much, the ones that made his butt look perfect, and brown shoes pulled everything together. He looked amazing and you couldn’t deny it, except tonight he was supposed to be ugly. Well, not Lance, but his outfit.

He put his hands around your waist, leaning in to give you a kiss hello since he hadn’t seen you all day. If he was trying to distract you from the sweater it was working…  _almost_.

You had to push him away slightly before speaking. “Lance, we’re going to an  _ugly_ sweater party, you can’t wear a nice sweater,” you chuckled. “Why aren’t you wearing what I made you?”

“What did you make me?”

You gestured to the outfits hanging and Lance said he thought they were both yours. Lance sat on the edge of the bed, watching as you took the Christmas tree sweater down, showing off your work. “Isn’t it great?”

Lance couldn’t hide his feelings, showcased by the way his nose crinkled, and his lips curled up in disgust. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, Y/N.”

“I know, right? It’s perfect!” you beamed. “Now put it on.”

Lance held his hands up in defense. Did you really want him to wear this, and out in public no less?

“Y/N, please,” he said, reaching for your hands. “We don’t always have to be themed. It’s Christmas, can’t we just wear red and green, knock back some eggnog and enjoy ourselves?” Lance’s eyebrows were raised, his forehead crinkling with lines as he adorably begged with his eyes.

When you smiled, Lance thought for a second he had convinced you, but he should have known better. “First of all, you know I think eggnog is gross.” Lance lowered his head to laugh. “And second, you’re not even wearing green!”

“Oh yes I am, my socks are green!” he retorted.

Your hands went to your hips. If Lance Tucker thinks socks that were hidden by his pants counted as dressing festively he was wrong. Besides, when you’re invited to a theme party, you have to go in theme.

“Lance, I know you might not believe it, but I worked really hard on these outfits and I’d really like you to wear your sweater, please.”

Now you were pouting, making your eyes look as big and innocent as possible as you pleaded for your way. His eyes shut tight as he thought it over. Lance knew he was going to say yes anyway, he could never turn you down but luckily you spoke up during his hesitation to sweeten the deal.

“Besides, there’s a surprise for you when we get back tonight if you do this,” you whispered in his ear, enticingly.  
“Alright, hand me the sweater,” he resigned.

You watched Lance pull off his shirts, getting distracted by his bare chest when you were supposed to be getting dressed yourself. Taking your advice, he put on a white t-shirt first, hoping it would ease any discomfort made by the garland and decorations.

“You look great!” you exclaimed.

“I look like a big green idiot,” he deadpanned.

“Actually, now that you mention it…” You chuckled quietly, prompting Lance to give you a glare. “But no, babe, you do look great! Now, here is the switch for the lights…” Your voice trailed off as you showed him.

Lance sat back, watching you undress and change into your own outfit. It was equally as ugly although you could make anything look good. You placed the iPad in its pouch and Lance was confused until you turned it on.

“Wow…” was all he could say and you weren’t sure if he was impressed or horrified.

With a quick lipstick refresh you were ready to leave.

Arriving at the party you greeted your friends and the other guests, everyone wearing their own horribly decorated sweater, from Rudolph to a snow globe and everything in between. Even the dessert and drink tables were ugly, with clashing plaid tablecloths that somehow worked, displaying ugly sweater cozies for you to put on your drink glasses to cupcakes arranged and decorated as one giant ugly sweater.

Lance had lightened up at the party and he enjoyed himself despite his earlier reservations, but by the time you got home he was taking his sweater off the minute he stepped inside.

“Can I burn this in the fireplace now?” he joked.

“No!” you laughed, playfully slapping his arm. “But you can wait for me by the fireplace and I’ll get my surprise.”

Lance stepped out of his shoes, unzipped his pants, pulling them off and draped them over the couch. Finally he was comfortable again, in briefs and a t-shirt that definitely helped, but didn’t prevent him from feeling itchy all night. As he went to start the fireplace he kept reaching behind to scratch his back. Once the fire was lit he unfolded a fleece blanket and prepared the couch for when you returned.

Lance heard your voice before you came into the living room, “So I made something else,” you teased and Lance worried for a moment before he saw you walk before him.

You were wearing one of his favorite things that he’s pulled off you many times, your red lace camisole set, except now, attached to the top of your panties was a small spray of mistletoe.

Lance’s smirk grew deeper, and the blue of his eyes retreated to reveal a deep, lustful gaze.

“I’m gonna kiss you under the mistletoe all night,” he practically growled.

“Merry Christmas to me!” you squealed, as Lance lifted you into his arms, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, while carefully walking towards the couch.

As you carded your fingers through his hair he hummed against your skin. Lifting his head, your gaze connected and you placed a kiss on the tip of his nose and Lance cracked a smile. Your heart was filled with love for Lance who would always do anything to make you happy, even if meant wearing the ugliest sweater in the world. 


End file.
